Somedays, your thoughts just got jumbled .
The faithful spider gets trapped in the jam jar,
and the meaning of worlds come to crash
on the sharp reefs of the imaginary...
Whirlwind of shattered mirrors and broken gears
drifting in silent inner waters ...
There are dementia where the inspired treble
fade into the bitterness of a macchiato
that revolves around a non finito...
Midnight birds dropping their decaf masks
for the final stretch towards immortality
with a fatal taste of steroids...
I feel lost in a state of non hedonistic euphoria .
Drowned spirit into a lake of inconstancy...
What the point of making up reasons
that will rust away with the passing of seasons ?
I hurl my prose in the face of the mad muse .
Why didn\'t she make me a clean -handed serial killer ?
Or a rescuer of stray dogs ?
Life is only made of incoherences born in the amaro
of some entangled macchiato ....